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12 Imperfect Love Poems To Use This Valentine’s Day

Feel free to copy these directly onto your V-Day cards (no author permission required)

From a cheating husband to his wife:

It’s me, your husband, 20 years and counting,

No more fun, no more laughs, no more late night mounting.

It’s nice to see you every day, you never seem to leave,

Almost like you’re watching me, so I don’t deceive.

Here’s a box of chocolates, the ones you say taste great.

Wish I could enjoy them with you, but I’ll be working late.

Here we are together, one more Valentine’s Day.

And just as we promised, never did we…uh…stray.

Other than the beer gut, you haven’t changed a bit.

I’d kiss you now to celebrate, but the dog would have a fit.

Let’s spend an evening soon, I’m sure it will be hot,

But tonight I have massage, Silvio called with an open slot.

You looked so pretty in your Tinder pix,

I just knew I had to have a (NAME HERE) fix.

While I don’t yet know you well at all,

The words come so easy when you call.

I hope you’re not just another witch,

An online date I can’t wait to ditch.

You’re all I’ve wanted in a man so far,

Even though you sent me photos of your car.

I saw the gym pix with you working out,

And you caught a big fish, was that a trout?

So cool you’re a lifelong Yankee fan,

And that your old girlfriends called you Superman.

Just remember that I’m over here, (hey, over HERE!)

When you finish chugging that fourth micro-beer.

You know I’m nervous as can be,

When I think of asking you to marry me.

With divorce at a rate of more than two to one,

There’s little hope of sustaining all this fun.

Just promise me we’ll have lots of sex,

Before you clean me out and become my ex.

Whatever our journey together might bring,

By your side my heart will always sing.

I don’t care for jewelry, or houses, or fancy cars,

I need only your love to take me to the stars.

Okay, wait, that last line was a bit of a lie,

If you’re not ready for a baby soon, I’m saying goodbye.

Roses are mostly red, violets are mostly blue,

It was Cupid, not me, who shot that arrow at you.

Sorry if it hurt and hit you in the tushy,

I would kiss the boo-boo, but that’s a little mushy.

Please don’t tell the teacher or go to see the nurse,

If you want to fall in love, that will make things worse.

Don’t keep touching it, the cut won’t stop bleeding,

But let me wipe those tears, before we go to reading.

Now you really did it, I have blood all over my dress.

Everything is ruined, even my hair’s a total mess.

You shot that arrow at my butt, you didn’t even care.

I used to like you, Brian Lindley, but now I don’t, I swear.

Cupid is the god of Love, he brings chocolate on Valentine’s Day,

If you go out and get me 72% dark, maybe I’ll still let you play.

You are the heartbeat in my chest,

You are my true east and west.

Wherever you go, I go, too.

We have a love felt by few.

You are the sunshine of my life,

I am so honored you’re my wife.

In your gentle hands, I place my trust.

In your compassionate heart, I place my desire.

In your tender reassurance, I place my doubts.

In your quiet strength, I place my fears.

I have never been more sure of my place,

My place is inside you, always and forever.

Damn, we’ve been married a long time.

So long, I don’t feeling like making up a rhyme.

With all the pussy grabbing in the Oval every day,

I’d divorce you in a second, but Bannon says you have to stay.

So just take care of the kid and stay up in the Tower.

If I need you to down here, be ready in an hour.

Don’t fuck with me, Melania, or I’ll deport your ass,

Keep your mouth shut, be nice, and I’ll let your status pass.

Oh, and Happy Valentine’s Day.

My dearest Donald, father of my precious son.

You think this is over, that the battle’s already won.

I possess videotapes that would make your toes curl.

I have photographs that would make your lunch hurl.

Your little balls are in my hand, and I am going to squeeze,

I’m calling all the shots now, you fat disgusting sleaze.

So you listen to me, you arrogant, orange freak.

Send me $80 million or these tapes are going to leak.

Oh, and Happy Valentines’ Day.

Written by

Writer. Satirist. Author. Cyclist. Visit me at allanishac.com.

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